v4c71: Dark Heart

To say Su Nezan was ecstatic was an understatement. Every moment since Yun Ren and his companions had come back with their tale had been spent in a state of bliss that he had been certain he would never be able to feel again. He thought his happiness had died with his dear and beloved Wen. But now his Qi was churning and jumping about like a child, giddy and bounding so much he felt almost unbalanced.

 

Yun Ren had ignited that spark again. They had exposed every crime of the Shrouded Mountain Sect and even now the mountain was being torn apart by their own disciples.

 

It was justice so poetic it seemed borne by divine intervention, the comeuppance penned by the greatest of playwrights. At long last, the sins of the past had caught up with the Shrouded Mountain Sect. Surely, they were fated to be victorious!

 

Nezan ate and drank and made merry like he hadn’t in thousands of years, then woke up bright and early to make sure it hadn’t just been a dream.

 

It hadn’t been. Yun Ren was asleep in his bed, tail clutched in his arms like a pillow, Shen Yu was meditating on the very top of the mountain, Bi De and Ri Zu were in the same bed, and the former Shrouded Mountain Sect disciples were within their own quarters. They had no guard, despite where they had originated from.

 

They were too weak to be a true threat, and they were here. Why, the large one, Han, had even seemed genuinely interested in the way they did things.

 

While Nezan did have a grudge against the Shrouded Mountain Sect, he wasn’t stupid enough to consider fresh initiates who had left the sect after less than a year his enemies.

 

With the fact that this wasn’t some wondrous dream satisfied, Nezan had gone to the roof of the manor to watch the sunrise.

 

What would the world look like if a dream you held for thousands of years finally came true?

 

It looked brighter, Nezan decided. The sky was bluer, the mountain stone less drab, and the clouds a pure white. He listened to Bi De’s song—It was quite beautiful, and far better than having to listen to him scream that it was morning and thus time to get up.

 

He smiled at the wonderful song, just enjoying the world for another few minutes, before he descended the stairs back into the manor.

 

It was an old gathering place. One of the few that had been left after thousands of years of war and preserved only by its secrecy. A fortress of the foxes.

 

He stepped into the main hall and smiled warmly at where Yun Ren was arguing with his friends. Nezan felt warm pride fill his stomach at the sight of the boy. He truly was the greatest gift Nezan had received since Wen. And now with his bloodline active, Nezan had an heir he could trust with the future should the worst happen.

 

It had been ages since his kind had had a leader, a true leader, and Yun Ren would do nicely.

 

“So? What do you think?” he asked as he sat down beside a woman who had been staring at Yun Ren. She was a wild looking woman, her hair bushy and her canine teeth far too long to be a human.

 

“Lord Uncle,” Nezuhua’s voice knocked him out of his musing and he turned to the woman. She had been a wonderful aide so far.

 

“Yes, dear?”

 

“I have confirmation from Yuanlin and Xue Ji. They received your request to return and are making haste back,” Nezuhua said with a bow. There was something in her voice that noted dissatisfaction, but it was probably just something to do with the logistics of this place.

 

Nezan’s grin got wider.

 

“Excellent! Excellent!” he decreed. “It will be good for him to meet them. Speaking of, what do you think of our boy, Nezuhao?” he asked, turning to the owner of the manor. In stark contrast to most of their kind, the woman sitting at the head table was an ancient, withered looking woman; she was also the chief of the village in the valley.

 

Nezuhao was one of the leaders of the foxes, and the old woman was at the Fifth Stage of the Spiritual Realm. Though her fighting prowess had long since atrophied with her body, her illusions were still incredibly potent.

 

Nezuhao simply shrugged. “He’s a good lad. Offered to carry me down the stairs this morning. He’s a damn sight better and more polite than you, Uncle.”

 

Nezan laughed. “That he is, that he is…”

Nezan turned back to the hall as more and more of his kin entered for breakfast. Most of the foxes here were the support—the makers. Their blood was weak; and few of them were cultivators.

 

But the rest? The rest were returning now.

 

While Yun Ren and Shen Yu had been at the Shrouded Mountain Sect… Nezan too had been busy. Busy gathering all his kin. Old debts had been called in. Secret and hidden realms entered. To the four corners of the Howling Fang Mountains had Nezan ventured, finding the scattered enclaves of his kin and asking for them to join him here.

 

They had come, heeding their Honoured Uncle.

 

Nezan’s smile grew slightly wider as he looked at the hundreds of foxes… and felt several Qi signatures returning to the manor.

 

The Shrouded Mountain Sect had been hurt… but it was still alive. Still on their mountain. The joy turned to bloodlust.

 

The first blow had been struck.

 

And the darkness in Nezan’s heart churned gleefully.

 

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After breakfast, and after Ri Zu and Yushang stopped molesting his tail, Nezan called Yun Ren over. Quite a few people had come into the manor, and Yun Ren recognised none of them.

 

They were an eclectic mix; some of them looked like mountaineers, others looked like court clerks, and others were more in line with what he thought of when he thought of cultivators.

 

“Nephew!” Nezan said before shoving him in front of them all. “Come and meet your aunts! Yuanlin! You first!”

 

“So! You’re the kid I’ve heard so much about, eh?” the woman before him demanded, her narrow eyes roving all over Yun Ren’s body. She was a wild-looking woman, her hair as big and bushy as her tails. She practically had fangs, rather than normal teeth, and basically anybody who saw her would immediately think “fox.” She sounded gruff and slightly surly, and she felt dangerous. Like Nezan before Yun Ren had befriended him.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

 

“I guess so!” he replied, putting on a smile. “Xong Yun Ren. Nice to meetcha!”

 

She immediately invaded his personal space, but Yun Ren managed to hold his ground. Her yellow eyes bored into his—before she turned and looked at his fingers. “Bow and the sword?”

 

“Ah, yeah, my dad’s a hunter,” Yun Ren replied.

 

Yuanlin nodded. “We shall have to go hunting sometime.”

 

Yun Ren blinked as the woman clapped him on the shoulder, and then he realised that this was just like meeting his mother’s side of the family.

 

“Of course! Don’t blame me if I get the bigger beast!”

 

Yuanlin started laughing. “Not bad, kid!” she declared.

 

Then the next woman stepped up.

 

“Young Master. This one is Xue Ji. It is a pleasure to meet you,” the woman demurred, bowing slightly. She looked like an average court functionary, her hair in a severe bun. Well, like an average court functionary if they wielded swords.

 

“Ah, you don’t have to call me Young Master…“ he began, politeness coming to him.

 

And so things went. Nezan stayed behind him the entire time, gesturing each person forwards. Every person he met had measuring gazes, and some were more polite than others. By the end of it, Yun Ren had to meet nearly fifty people—all of whom were cultivators.

 

For a moment, Yun Ren wondered why Nezan had so many people here… but that question was satisfied as Nezan spoke again.

 

“You told me last night, nephew, that you had taken the recordings we asked for. May we see them?” Nezan asked politely.

 

“Of course,” he agreed. “Let’s see if we can darken the room a little…”

 

They closed the curtains and Yun Ren brought out his recording crystal. He took a breath and projected the first image, a landscape shot of the mountain as seen from the valley.

 

There was a great intake of breath. Yun Ren was particularly pleased with this shot. The mountain was shrouded completely in mist, but the angle of the sun let one see the rays of light that dispersed through it and hinted at the mountain beneath.

 

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